The Last Farewell
by KalenCaelli
Summary: This was to be her final journey - hers alone. Until an unexpected visitor turned Leliana's plans and her life upside down. Now, she finds herself drawn into yet another adventure - to reunite with her lost love.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Last Farewell

**Author:** KalenCaelli

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer:** Dragon Age and its characters are the property of Bioware. If I had produced the game there would be at least one scene with Alistair in a dress dancing the Remigold.

**Author's notes:** I know, I know… I'm a hopeless tease. First with _Second Chances_, which I will, eventually, finish; and then with _The Long Road Home_, which will, eventually, have another chapter written. I even have a 75% finished R&I one shot for you, Leo, that will eventually get finished.

But you can rest the blame for this one solely on Snafu1000.

Yep, that's right, it's her fault you all are getting a sequel to _The Last Dance_. In truth, I had written two to three chapters of a sequel about a year ago, and then I became incredibly uninspired and shelved it, assuming that one day I would eventually feel the urge or inclination to toss or rewrite the damn thing. Then Snafu had to go and repost her goddamn story (okay, okay, so maybe, just maybe a _**few**_ threats were involved), and now I've gotten the bug to turn out not just a sequel but probably even a trilogy out of the whole damn thing.

In short, you can all blame Snafu too. In fact, you all should flood her PM Inbox with favs, follows, and all kinds of irritatingly pleasant but wonderful reviews telling her just how much you love her damn story because it really, truly, is probably one of the best DA stories out there. It's terrible, really.

Anyways, enough about that, really. For those of you who are new to this crazy fandom we all know and love – play the game(s) first. Then read _The Last Dance_ first (unless you're one of those annoying people who skips to the end of the book first because really, who could be bothered with such silly nuances like plot), preferably with all sharp, pointy objects confiscated so you don't slit your delicate little wrists.

As always, this story is dedicated to the love of my life, my beautiful wife Lauren, without whom I would be truly lost. And this is also dedicated to Snafu, who stubborn determination to finish her amazing work has inspired me to face my own writer's block with that same dogged determination.

Then, sit down with a nice cold beer (but only if you can do so legally and only if it's really good beer, like Shiner) and read my latest project, the long-awaited sequel to _The Last Dance_.

* * *

**Prologue**

_Now this is not the end. _

_It is not even the beginning of the end. _

_But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning._

_~Winston Churchill_

* * *

_Cousin, wake up!_

Tired… she was so tired…

_Do you know what day it is today?_

No… it can't be…

_Your dress is so pretty… and Nelaros, he's so handsome…_

A crimson river, pulsing through her fingertips, blue eyes clouded in death…

_Take me home. Please, just take me home._

A river of tears, falling from auburn lashes, streaming down pale cheeks.

Shianni?

_I can't go on. I can't do this without you._

No…not Shianni.

_I'm sorry, my love. Please forgive me…_

Leliana…

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

First one eye opened, and then the other.

_Too bright. It's too bright…_

Her eyes slammed shut.

A cool hand pressed against her forehead, the melodic hum of a familiar lullaby echoing in the recesses of her memory. Familiar, but still, she had some difficulty remember exactly where she had heard that tune before.

"Da'len…"

She opened her eyes, ignoring the way they instantly clouded with tears, blurring her vision. Only with some difficulty was she able to lift her hands, pressing them against her eyelids until she was able to move past the pain. It seemed like an eternity passed before she could finally open her eyes, and when she did, she gasped, startled.

"Mama?"

A warm smile stretched across pale pink lips, the familiar green eyes crinkling at the corners, as they so often did when she was younger. A cool palm pressed against her cheek. Kallian leaned into the touch instinctively, eyelids fluttering closed as she savored the tender caress.

"I've missed you so much…" Blinking back tears, Kallian lifted her head, meeting her mother's gaze for only a moment before she launched herself into Adaia's arms, a choked sob escaping her mouth as they folded around her.

How long had it been since she'd felt her mother's hug?

"I know," Adaia's voice was a soothing balm, calming the younger woman, filling her with an unusual sense of peace.

Sniffling, Kallian drew back, unable to resist the urge to drag her fingertips through the silky strands of her mother's ebony hair. Glancing around the room, she realized very quickly that she was back at their apartment in Denerim, and that it was evening, not daytime as she originally expected.

"How did I…" Kallian frowned, pursing her lips as she studied the room – it certainly looked like their apartment in Denerim, down to the peeling paint and familiar crackle of the logs in the fireplace. But that was impossible – the alienage had nearly razed to the ground when the Darkspawn had attacked…

"The Blight…" Kallian's voice held a bit of a panic as she darted off the bed, her eyes darting around wildly as she searched for her mother's dagger. The Blight. Denerim was under attack and she needed to…

"Peace, daughter." Adaia's hand gently grasped her daughter's bicep, turning her around. "The Blight is over. You won."

"No," Kallian attempted to jerk away, though her mother's grip tightened and would not falter. Suddenly, her surroundings grew sinister, nameless shadows flickering along the walls, which seemed to press closer and closer. "You don't understand. Only a Grey Warden can slay the…"

…_the Archdemon._

"Where am I?" Her voice rose, dread beginning to fill her as she tugged futilely at the iron grip, meeting eyes that were no longer inviting, no longer warm. "Where are we?"

"You're dead," each word piercing her soul like a dagger. "Another useless pawn of the Grey Wardens in their futile struggle."

"You're wrong," Kallian hissed, her eyes narrowing as she suddenly lunged towards her mother, though she knew for certain now that this creature was most certainly not her mother.

The tactic worked, throwing the creature off balance and weakening its grip enough to allow her to break free. Kallian raced towards the front door, ignoring the angry shriek of the demon as she flung open the door and stepped out onto…

…_the woods?_

Spinning around, Kallian looked, but the door she had just opened was no longer there.

_What the…_

Somehow, she had stepped out into a clearing, a small dell ringed by a densely packed forest, trees expanding in every direction as far as the eyes could see. The night was moonless, the campsite illuminated only by starlight and the small firepit that resided in the center of the campsite. A single canvas tent stood a few feet from an overturned log that appeared to have been dragged into place near the small blaze, offering an alternative to sitting on the snow-covered forest floor.

Resting atop the fire was a small spit, from which appeared to be hanging a small kettle filled with a sort of dark stew.

But there was no other sign that the clearing was occupied. In fact, there was no sign of life in _any_ form.

Kallian's eyes fluttered as the weight of reality settled upon her shoulders like an avalanche.

The demon … her mother … she'd been telling the truth.

She _was _dead.

* * *

Reviews are never expected, but always appreciated. Thank you all for joining me on the start of this epic adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

_When we two parted_

_In silence and tears,_

_Half broken-hearted,_

_To sever for years,_

_Pale grew thy cheek and cold,_

_Colder thy kiss;_

_Truly that hour foretold_

_Sorrow to this._

_~Lord Byron_

The clearing was small, surrounded by a circle of weather-beaten trees whose branches had long surrendered their fruits to the harshness of winter. A thick layer of snow covered the ground. In the center of the clearing a small fire burned, its red-orange flames providing illumination against an otherwise dreary background. A small pot was suspended between a pair of forked branches, its contents bubbling, releasing a pleasant aroma that drifted across the campsite. A small, olive drab tent was pitched nearby, though for the moment it appeared abandoned.

A small, thin, rabbit entered the clearing, its brown coat a stark contrast to the white layer of snow on the ground. It lifted its nose into the air, sniffing, having long ago smelled the delicious aromas that had been emanating out of the campsite. Winter had come early and set quickly. Food had been exceptionally scarce this season.

It did not notice the cloaked figure standing in the woods, standing silently with an arrow leveled at its heart. With a slight twitch of her index finger, the arrow released, killing the rabbit before it could even realize it was happening.

The cloaked figure quickly made its way to the side of the dead creature, pulling out a small dagger and bleeding it quickly. She was about to start skinning the carcass when a large hound came bounding out of the forest, kicking up clouds of snow and yipping excitedly, startling the hooded figure and causing the tip of the knife to slip past the carcass and slice across a slender finger.

"Ouch!" A distinctly feminine voice cried out, dropping the knife into the crimson-stained snow, pressing the wound against her lips. With her free hand she drew back her hood and pinned the Mabari war hound with a pointed glare.

"Fynn!" Leliana chastised him, wincing at the throbbing pain in her finger, grimacing as she used her edge of her cloak to apply pressure to the wound. "You caused me to cut myself!"

The brown and grey Mabari whined, tucking its short, stubby tail between its back legs, cowering. Its ears flattened back as it cast a soulful expression in Leliana's direction, who, after a moment, let out a deep sigh, gesturing to the rabbit.

"Go ahead," Leliana said, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I wasn't much hungry anyways."

The intelligent brown eyes, studying her with an unnerving calm. Mabaris were renowned across all the lands for their intelligence and their skill in battle, along with which came an extremely healthy appetite and a surprisingly deep intuition.

With a displeased huff, the Fynn shook his massive head, his dark nose sniffing around the rabbit's carcass, nudging it in Leliana's direction. Blue eyes met brown in a silent standoff that lasted several minutes, until the bard acquiesced with a sign.

Shaking the snow out of her tussled auburn hair, she quickly finished skinning the rabbit, tossing the entrails aside for Fynn, who happily began to feed, and dumping what meat she could salvage from the half-starved thing into the stew that was bubbling over the fire.

The bard sat down on an overturned log she had pushed close to the fire, wrapping her cut finger to stave off further bleeding, though the wound was far too small to cause much damage. It certainly wasn't enough to bleed to death.

_If I were only so lucky. _She drew her knees to her chest, a bone-weary exhaustion gripping her once more. Fynn had refused to leave her side since Kallian's death, following her despite her admonitions to the contrary. Leliana was certain that Kallian had ordered the hound to take care of her, and despite numerous attempts to lose his company, she had finally resigned herself to the reality that he would follow her wherever she went.

Even if it meant his own death.

Had she been making this journey alone, Leliana would have hardly bothered with the trouble of setting up a formal campsite. She certainly wouldn't have bothered cooking a warm meal, opting instead for the dried provisions she'd picked up along the way.

But if he was determined to follow her, then she would care for him, even if his very presence was an agonizing reminder of all she had lost.

Leliana reached into the small rucksack that held the remainder of her worldly possessions, her fingers brushing against the stem of a wilted wildflower. Her eyes fluttered closed at the bittersweet memories of the night she'd been given that flower, and instead withdrew the small journal and quill that she had purchased the season before in Denerim.

Lifting her gaze, she was surprised to see that Fynn appeared more focused on her than on consuming his meal, she lifted the items apologetically. "The stew will be some time yet. I'd like to get some writing done, if it is okay with you."

Glancing between the bard and the kettle, Fynn seemed to be weighing the truth of the statement, eventually giving a short bark that indicated his approval.

Leliana nodded, ducking into her tent, which was scarcely warmer than the clearing outside, though its battered sides did keep the wind from freezing her. The bard dropped the parchment and quill on the bed, quickly lighting a lone candle with practiced hands. Its scant light illuminated the small tent, and Leliana sat cross-legged on her sleeping furs, glancing around the small compartment.

In the corner sat a pair of untouched blue satin shoes, their gold trim and golden ornate baubles seemingly out-of-place in this otherwise unadorned tent. Leliana had not been able to bring herself to leave them in Denerim, though she knew she'd never wear them. She'd been saving them for the party she knew would be thrown after the Archdemon had been slain. But when Kallian had died...

The bard shook her head. She'd never attended the ball, instead sitting in her room, face buried in the pillow to muffle her screams, while Wynne did everything within her power to console her.

_Wynne…_

Leliana regretted the deception she'd employed to flee Denerim, but if Wynne, or any of her friends for that matter, had discovered her intentions… no, the deception had been necessary, and hopefully, one day, Wynne would forgive her for the drug she'd slipped into their drinks.

No doubt they had sent pursuit, but she had anticipated that eventuality. When she was certain the draught had taken hold, she'd left the city, then immediately gone east, taking a long, tortuous route that took her along the outskirts of the Brecilian Forest, adding several months to her travel, but in the end, her attempts to evade pursuit had been successful.

She did not doubt that they had sent word ahead to Orzammar, but she had no intent of stepping foot inside the dwarven city.

_There are many entrances to the Deep Roads scattered across the Frostbacks._

Leliana let out a sigh, staring at the blank parchment, unsure of what quite to write. Thus far her recordings had been mostly about her journey. Once she wrote a letter of apology to Wynne and Alistair, but realizing any letter she sent would most certainly be used to track her down, it remained tucked away in the back of her journal.

Leliana pursed her lips together as she wrote, the only sounds the scratch of the parchment against the rough paper.

_Do you remember the day Wynne tried to bathe Fynn? We had just set up camp for the evening and you and I had gone to collect some elfroot for more health poultices when the sounds of screaming and fighting brought us racing back to camp._

_Fynn had somehow managed to overturn the entire tub of water onto Alistair's tent, creating an enormous mud puddle that he then proceeded to roll in. Then he led Alistair, Wynne, and Zevran on a merry chase that somehow ended up with him emerging from Morrigan's tent with a pair of her smallclothes hanging from his mouth. _

_Morrigan was so furious she attempted to turn Fynn into a toad, but he jumped away at the last minute and the spell hit Oghren instead, causing several flowers to start growing from his beard._

A faint smile quirked the corners of her lips, almost, almost, drawing a burst of laughter when the sound of Fynn's frantic barking drew her out of the moment. Tossing the parchment aside, she grabbed her bow and stepped cautiously out of the tent, glancing around the campsite with apprehension. Brigands and travelers were still common on the roads, and a few wandering bands of Darkspawn had occasionally been known to attack travelers in the near the foothills of the Frostback mountains.

The campsite was undisturbed, however. The stew was nearly ready, the pleasant aroma of the rabbit wafting through the air, making her stomach rumble for the first time in a fortnight. It took only moments to spot Fynn, crouched low near the end of the eastern tree line, ears pinned back, snarling and snapping at the shadows.

Leliana leveled her arrow at the trees. "Whoever you are, come out now. Or I will send my mabari in to drag you out, in pieces if need be." As if to accentuate the threat, Fynn let out a low growl, baring his teeth at the hidden threat.

There was no response. Leliana's finger twitched on the bowstring, all of her senses on high alert. Her light blue gaze constantly shifted around, taking in the ever-changing shadows. She couldn't see a thing out there, but experience had long ago taught her that just because all appeared safe, it didn't mean there wasn't danger.

Then, a small flicker of movement appeared in the corner of her right eye, and Leliana spun abruptly, leveling her arrow in the direction of the new threat. She let out a loud gasp as she finally processed the exact nature of the threat before her.

_Morrigan._


End file.
